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Cooler weather at last! Trips this month: 12
Back to Journal Index
10/5/09
Pileated Woodpecker sends chunks of
wood raining down on me on Browns Creek
I decided to head to Browns Creek for the first time in seven months for my
first October trip. I launched at mid-tide incoming on an gray, overcast day
with showers in the forecast. A kayak fisherman had launched ahead of me but
when I saw him head north I decided to continue on west and do the route
that I travel about 80% of the time when I put-in here.
I let the current carry me under the trees on the south side of the big
island where I shot an Osprey and a couple of Great Blue Herons before
heading on toward the runoff pond at the plant. I spotted and Anhinga who
flushed well before I could get close but I managed a few shots of an
immature Black Crowned Night Heron before I headed back out and started to
skirt the western shoreline of the creek. Not far from the pond, I spotted a
Pileated Woodpecker who was busily pecking away at a dead tree. I
floated up under him and got several good shots as chunks of wood began to
drop down on top of me.
He flew off and I continued on poking my boat into a couple of the dark
little creeks that flow deep into the woods. I found my way around the far
corner of the creek and got back into the main channel that flows around the
northern most of the big islands in the chain. As I rounded the eastern
corner of that island I immediately spotted a large black shape perching in
a pine tree where I have often seen Bald Eagles in the 20 years that I have
paddled here.
I worked my way slowly toward him as he gazed out at the water. There were a
few Herons and Egrets perching nearby who flew off and finally, he became
aware of me and as all Eagles tend to do - flew off without a sound. I
finished my trip by paddling along the eastern side of the island where I
started and then headed back under the bridge as the tide began to flow out.
See the pictures from this trip
10/7/09
Reddish Egret on the FGR
The hot weather made a return to the area this weekend so I decided to make
a return to my favorite place to cool off - the FGR. As I loaded up my boat
at the Ribault ramp I could see that the trees surrounding the boat basin
was full of birds including some Spoonbills and their cousins the Wood
Storks. There was a Reddish Egret perching in a dead tree at the entrance to
the basin and as I paddled toward the first tree full of birds a young Bald
Eagle circled the trees to the north.
"Hey baaabeeee!"
As I cross the pool, I could see that a couple of the Wood Storks were
sunning themselves in what I like to call the "Dirty Old Man" pose. I've
seen Great Blue Herons, Yellow Crowned Night Herons and even Bald Eagles
strike this same pose but this was the first time I had ever seen a Stork do
so. I drifted close to the trees causing the Night Herons hidden in the
interior branches to begin "Wokking" and moving about. The Storks and the
Spoonies simply eyed me with some disdain but as always they seemed
unwilling to give up their good perches that were facing the morning sun. I
detected some movement around the lower branches which hung over the water
and started shooting a Green Heron who was hunting until I disturbed him at
which point he began clucking and raising his crest. Reddish Egret watching me pass under
him
I moved away from the Storks and Spoonbills and after completing my circuit
of the pool headed back to the entrance where I let the brisk westerly
breeze push me directly beneath the Reddish Egret's perch. I didn't plan to
get quite so close but the Egret merely glared at me with his crazed stare
although I began to worry that he might squirt me before he flew away. He
didn't and I continued on out to the river where I had an easy float past
the houses and around the bend. The tide was unusually high and I decided to
explore a drainage creek that flows deep into the woods about halfway
between the last of the docks and Isabella. I have explored it before years
ago but its only accessible at very high tides. It seems to be a natural
stream that was probably dredged out a little during the years when Ft.
George Island was trying to be developed. I went as far as I could and
turned around and continued on to Point Isabella. Young Night Heron
With the tide so high I was able to easily do the entire circuit behind the
wharf, pausing to shoot an immature Night Heron. I came back out to the
river and crossed over to my hammocking island and was soon set up in the
trees. I took a refreshing dip in the rapidly cooling but still warm waters
and then ate lunch and relaxed. After about an hour I could tell that the
tide had turned so I decided to take the long way back around the big
sandbar opposite the houses. I shot a Reddish Egret along the beach on the
north side and then crossed over to the ramp. The same Reddish that had been
perching at the entrance to the pool was still there so I shot him as the
brisk breeze ruffled his rust colored mane.
I shot some of the Spoonies and Storks who were still hanging out in the
same trees as before as well as a young Night Heron before heading back and
loading up.
See the pictures from this trip
10/9/09
At the confluence with Boggy Creek
and Mills Creek forming the Nassau River
After some debate, I decided to try out a new put-in along the Nassau River
that I found on the county's web
site. It's the Edwards Road ramp which is located off of SR-200
about 2 miles west of I-95. There's not much there aside from the concrete
ramp and dock located in a small waterfront neighborhood made up of a
mixture of trailers and cinderblock houses. The hum from the interstate was
fairly loud as I set out but I decided to head west against the outgoing
tide and within a few minutes I was out of earshot. I flushed a Great Blue
Heron who was hanging out near the ramp but I had a feeling that I wouldn't
be seeing a lot of birdlife on the day. Heading west on the Nassau
I passed the last of the houses about a mile west of the ramp and a short
time later saw a small Gator in the water ahead of me. He disappeared before
I could shoot so I continued on against a pretty stiff current. This area of
the Nassau River is what is called an Ecotone - an area where two different
habitats overlap - in this case Coastal and Freshwater. The water tasted
fresh but the vegetation was a mixture of what I normally see further east
in the salt marshes as well as what I see in freshwater systems like Thomas
Creek. There were thick stands of rushes although the predominant vegetation
was cat tails and I soon began to see pickerel weeds and climbing aster. The
area was dotted with islands of pine trees, cedars and after a while the
cypress trees became more and more common. With the water level low, getting
out on these islands looked to be far too difficult as the shoreline dropped
off steeply into soft mud.
I paddled on toward what was my goal for the day - a road called Police
Lodge Road that appeared to cross the river about 3.5 miles upstream. The
gleaming white concrete bridge soon came into view and just beyond it I
could see a larger Gator. I paused to take a break under the shade of the
bridge and looked to see if there was a way to access the water from the
road but if there was, it was a difficult one. Since it was still early in
the day, I decided to continue on upstream thinking that since the current
was still strong against me that I would still have it for at least part of
the way back. Looking west up Boggy Creek
A little ways up from the bridge another creek joined the river. After doing
some research I realized that this was actually the place where the Nassau
River begins as this creek was actually called Mills Creek and it now joined
what was called Boggy Creek. Both of these streams flow west and then north,
going under SR-200 at some point before petering out in swamps. I continued
up Boggy Creek and found a wooded area that had a hard packed shoreline and
some cleared area in the woods so I got out to stretch my legs. Just a few
yards upstream I found a clearing where I saw the remains of a dock and a
macadam boat ramp. I got out and could see Police Lodge Road across the
field but the area was posted by a group called the Three Rivers Preserve so
I assume it is probably a hunt camp.
I made my way around the next bend where I could see that the stream was
gradually entering a more wooded area but the intense heat was starting to
get to me so I decided to turn around. Up until this time, I had been
paddling against a gradually lessening current but it seemed as though that
changed as soon as I turned around. The current was slight but it was aided
by a southerly breeze that was picking up. It never became a strong current
but I was worn out and it made the trip back a little less fun. I made my
way back seeing a few more Gators and a very shy Green Heron who clucked at
me as he hid in the cypress trees and I made it back to the ramp about 4 1/2
hours after I had set out.
I decided to do a little exploring to the west to see if I could find more
put-ins along SR-200 or south of Callahan on US-1 or Lem Turner. I found a
pull off south of the town where US-1 crosses Thomas Creek that looked like
a good place to explore and then found a pull off where SR-200 crosses Mills
Creek. There appeared to be another pull off at Boggy Creek but the state is
doing some massive road work on both sides of 200 and it looks like the pull
off is blocked at least for the time being.
See the pictures from this trip
10/11/09
Great Blue Heron on Pumpkin Hill
A couple of weeks ago, someone paddling on Pumpkin Hill for the first time,
reported that shrimp were jumping into their kayak. I had seen some evidence
of my own that the shrimp were starting their second season so I decided
that this morning - with low tide at 10:30 - I would head that way and check
things out. I was surprised to find the put-in empty as I pulled up at 7:30
and I could see small shrimp jumping from the water as I loaded up my boat.
The water was still and glassy as I floated out with the tide. I shot some
Great Blue Herons as I rounded the bend near the trails and then as I got
close to my shrimping spot, I sat for quite a while shooting a Great Blue
who was staring at the mud. The bright morning sun was directly behind me
so I don't think he could see me until I decided to push off.
I had planned to head out to the point and spend some time there while I
waited for the tide to finish going out but I paddled over to my shrimping
spot to check things out. At first, there was nothing stirring, but as I
rounded the bend and entered the feeder stream that comes into the main
channel, the water exploded in a cloud of gray. A huge shrimp lay flopping on
the deck of my boat and shrimp were bouncing off my arms and into my lap.
That was enough for me, so I pulled over and began tossing. Young Great Blue Heron
My first cast was empty but I tossed again and pulled up a net of gray, angry
shrimp that covered the bottom of my dish pan a couple of layers deep. There
were a few small ones but I was impressed by how the overall size of the shrimp
had increased since my last attempt here in late July. I kept casting back and
forth along the hard ledge but finally settled on staying closest to the
feeder creek where I had the best luck. There was a large fish swirling in
the water nearby that seemed to be chasing the shrimp toward me and I by the
time the tide had gone all of the way out my cooler was brimming with
shrimp. I could have doubled my haul had I stayed for the first part of the
incoming but I couldn't fit anymore shrimp so I packed up and left.
As I set out, a Dolphin began chasing shrimp nearby , swirling his tail
while the shrimp flew into the air. As I made my way toward the trails, a
large dark bird seemed to fly out from the trees and began circling over the
water. It was blotched with white patches on it's chocolate brown body and
it's distinct beak clearly identified it as a young Eagle. Wood Storks
I rounded the bend and saw someone casting a net from a canoe. My first
thought was that this was probably not such a good idea but he seemed to be
able to do it without much trouble. As I got a little closer, however, he
suddenly flopped into the water and then struggled to pull himself back into
the boat. I pulled up just as he got back in and said "I hate it when that
happens!" He explained that he had lost his paddle and that was the reason
he went into the water.
I paddled the rest of the way back to the put-in and started to load up
while the canoe guy pulled up. He had a crab trap in the back of his boat
and he pulled out a gunny sack full of crabs as he unloaded his stuff. We
chatted a bit and then I headed on home to pinch and peel my 304 shrimp.
That makes my total 1710 for the year.
See the pictures from this trip
10/12/09
The McCharen Armada invades the FGR
Our daughter Jenny is back in town from her farming internship in Vermont
along with her friend Sophia so we decided to spend Columbus day taking the
infamous McCharen Armada out on the FGR. The tides were by no means ideal
for a trip on Ft. George River with the low tide at 10:30 but we decided to
head in with the incoming tide and paddle up to the Kingsley Plantation
before heading back to our hammock island to have our picnic.
A boater came in from the ICW with a pair of dogs riding his bow and once we
headed back toward our destination, we saw that they had landed on the sandbar
directly opposite Point Isabella. The pair of dogs that we had seen on the
bow of his boat were joined by a third dog and were having the time of their
lives running at full speed from one end of the bar to the other while their
owner walked at the water's edge. As I passed by close to the shoreline, the
Pit Bull and Beagle of the group started to swim out toward me and the owner
greeted me by saying "it's a great day to be on the water". I told him that it
looked like his pups were having fun and he replied that he liked to bring
them here to wear them out. It certainly looked like three puppies were
going to sleep well tonight.
We headed across the channel to our destination at the mouth of Simpsons
Creek and soon were all enjoying the cool waters of the FGR. After eating
lunch and sitting in the warm breeze we all jumped in the water and let the
swift incoming tide carry us quickly past the fallen trees to the other side
of the island. We had seen a couple pull up on the sandbar across from us in
a rental tandem kayak but they had walked away from their boat which was now
floating toward us. We weren't sure if they were aware of it or not, so I ran
and got in my boat and paddled out to it just as the young man began running
after it. He was kind of dog paddling after it with his PFD through his arms
and there was not a chance that he was going to catch up to it until it was
swept down to Kingsley so I motioned for him to head back to the sandbar
while I intercepted it. I managed to grab it and re-direct it back in his
direction so that he could grab it and pull himself into it.
I left him and returned to the cheers of my group for being the brave kayak
rescuer. We hung out for a little while longer and since Jenny and Sophia
had plans for the evening, we decided that we would head back against the tide. I
knew that we were going to have to fight the current when I had planned the
trip, but originally I had thought about going the long way around the big
sandbar where the river bends to the west. Once we crossed over to the
corner of the island where the two channels join, I decided that the more
direct route might make more sense if we hugged the grass to stay out of the
current. We did just that and with all of the twentysomething farmer and
stagehand bodies in the group we had little trouble but pulled into the
grassy coves along the way to take breaks and let Hopey catch up.
We reached the placed where the island bends to the east and the current
became nearly unmanageable so we crossed over to the Ft. George side just a
few yards shy of the ramp at Ribault. I spotted a tree full of Spoonbills in
the boat basin and pulled in to shoot them before returning to the ramp.
There were two ladies fishing in the middle of the ramp as we pulled up and
when one of them actually cast her line over my head as I pulled in, it
became obvious that they had no intention of moving their butts away
from the put-in. The older of the two told me to "just let us know if we
were in the way and they would move" to which I replied "well - we have four
boats to load up - you figure it out!" She very reluctantly got the message
and slowly began moving her trash out of the way while the other gal kept
casting over everyone else who was coming in.
Hope told me later that she sarcastically told the ladies that she would try
to get out of their way as soon as possible which prompted the older one to
get apologetic and try to explain that they respected the environment
when she saw Jenny begin picking up the trash that they had strewn about the
ramp. Anyway - we managed to get loaded up in spite of them and headed home.
See the pictures from this trip
10/13/09
Wood Storks on Pumpkin Hill
I don't usually do three trips in a row but my shrimping success on Sunday
prompted me head to Pumpkin Hill with a low tide around mid-day to try my luck
again. The weather was cool, gray and misty and as I launched from the
put-in I began to think that this was probably going to be a lousy day for shrimping or photography. A bad day on the water beats most other kinds of
days so I headed on down the channel, pulling over to check the little
island near the put-in to see if anybody interesting was perched there. Only
Great Egrets were there and most of them flew off before I got close but I
could see a Red Shouldered Hawk perching on another island to the north.
I paddled toward the trails and spotted a pair of Northern Harriers swooping
above the trees - the first sighting of these birds that I consider to be a
harbinger of winter. I could see that the trees at what I
call the Little Point were white with birds that I could tell by their shape
and posture were Wood Storks so I pulled in and shot them as I floated by. I
returned to the main channel and after checking out the feeder stream near
my shrimping spot I continued down to Tiger Point where I pulled up and
tried my luck at casting.
After about 30 minutes I had netted only about 8 keepers so I decided to
head back toward my spot. I was pretty sure that my success was going to be
poor since the tide was higher than normal and I could barely get out of my
boat. The water was too deep for me to be able to cast my net very far out
and after a couple of tries I gave up, resigned to this being a failure of a
day as far as shrimp were concerned. For some reason I decided to pull into
the feeder stream again and see if there were shrimp jumping there. As I
pulled into the muddy shallows they started popping out of the water but not
in the gray clouds like they had done on Sunday. I poked around a bit trying
to find a hard ledge where I could cast from but soon gave up.
It suddenly struck me that it might be worth the effort to see I could toss
my net while seated in my kayak. I had bought the smallest net possible
originally thinking that I might be able to do so but had never actually
tried and eventually had concluded that it wouldn't be worth it. I managed
to toss the net that barely cleared my boat and nearly took my paddle with
it. The net only opened part way but when I hauled it in it was full of at
least two dozen shrimp that ranged from small "keeper" sized to very large.
Over the next 45 minutes or so I managed to figure out the best way to
accomplish the feat and actually got pretty good at it. Not that it mattered
much how adept I was - the fact that I was throwing the net on top of
thousands of shrimp meant that I couldn't help but be successful and soon I
had over 100 shrimp - enough for a meal.
The hardest part was figuring out what to do with the shrimp once I caught
them but I managed to put my dish pan between my legs and I could pick out
the shrimp one by one and turn to drop them in the cooler behind me. I was
able to paddle up and down the creek with the net between my legs and
whenever the shirmp would start to jump I would throw it overboard and haul
the catch in. I was very selective about what I caught since I was having to
pluck them out of the dish one by one so I could have tripled my haul if I
could have dumped the entire catch in at the same time.
It was 12:30 or so when I decided to head back so I paddled along the muddy
bank and stopped at a few places along the way to toss and had pretty good
success as I headed toward the put-in. I realized that this was a huge development in my shrimping possibilities and with a few minor tweaks I may now be able to go
after the shrimp instead of waiting for them to come to me. There are
millions of big lunkers hiding up in those feeder streams just waiting for
Uncle Kevin to come and get them. I headed back home and had to hurry to
clean up my 187 shrimp and then get myself cleaned up to go to work. That
put me at 1897 for the year.
See the pictures from this trip
10/16/09
Young Bald Eagle on the FGR
My plans to head to Guana this morning were changed by the threat of heavy
rain to the south so I ran some errands and was prepared to blow the day
off. When I was out, however, I realized what a beautiful day it was so
after I came home I decided to pack a lunch and head out to the FGR. Young Night Heron
I put-in at the Ribault Club and seeing some Spoonbills in the boat basin I
did a turn in the boat basin shooting them as well as a tree full of Black
Crowned Night Herons before heading back out to the river. I saw a Reddish
Egret on the sandbar across the way and spent some time shooting him before
deciding to let the current carry me east of the A1A bridge. I decided to
head into the lagoon where I saw a pair of Dolphins feeding. I shot them and
some Ospreys before heading back out into the main channel where I let the
outgoing current carry me out to the ocean. Kite surfer at Hugenot
Normally, there area a couple of Kite Surfers playing around in the surf at
Huegenot but today, with the offshore breeze of at least 15 mph I counted 16
of the surfers flying across the beach in front of me. There were so many of
them that I marveled at their ability to not get tangled up with each other.
There was a front coming in from the west that promised to finally bring
autumn to the area but with temps in the mid-80's I spent some time cooling
off in the still warm waters and ate lunch while I watched the kite surfers
zoom back and forth along the beach. Young Eagle
I heard the rumble of thunder coming from the direction of the darkening
sky to the southwest. When I turned back around to look at the surfers I saw
that they had all started to head in and after spotting a bolt of lightning
a couple of minutes later it was soon apparent why. I decided to head in a
few minutes later now that the tide had turned and soon was back on the west
side of the bridge. As I got close to the Ribault ramp, I suddenly saw a
large, dark bird flutter down to the middle of a sandbar. At first, I
thought that it might be a Vulture or a Cormorant but a quick check
with my binoculars showed that it was a very young Bald Eagle.
I worked my way toward him until I was about 50 feet away and took pictures
as he sat on the sandbar. Finally, he took off and began flying toward the
ICW. As he rose into the sky, he spotted an Osprey with a small fish and
made a half hearted effort to harass it but the Osprey quickly outmaneuvered
it and the Eagle disappeared to the west.
I crossed over to the ramp and did another turn in the basin before heading
home.
See the pictures from this trip
10/20/09
Great Blue Heron on the Santa Fe
River
During our trip to Suwannee River State Park at the beginning of September,
Hope and I took a trip over to the Santa Fe River - paddling down from Poe
Springs to the CR-47 bridge. We got the idea in our heads that we could
easily do the entire stretch of the river from High Springs to where it
joins the Suwannee on my next six days off. Since that coincided with a day
that Hope had to spend at Camp Weed near Live Oak we decided to make plans
to spend the night at the Grady House B&B on Monday and then begin our
journey Tuesday morning, stopping overnight at Ginnie Springs before making
the rest of the journey on Wednesday. Perfect fall day on the Santa Fe
After some research, we decided to leave a vehicle at Ellie Ray's River Camp
-
located a mile shy of the confluence and about a mile west of the CR-49
bridge. I had estimated that the trip from Ginnie to this point was about
18.5 miles which I knew would make for a long day but with the levels and
flow at about what they were on our September trip we felt like we could
make it.
After dropping a car off at Ellie Ray's, we traveled east to High Springs
where we checked into the Grady House - one our all time favorite places to
stay. After relaxing in their wonderful garden (which always inspires us to
come home and do the same to our wild yard) we hiked over to the Great
Outdoors Restaurant where we had yet another fine meal. After a glass of
wine in the Grady House Garden, we hit the sack and woke up to eat a
scrumptious B&B breakfast before heading to the store to pick up our
supplies for the river. Hopey floating down the shoals
We got to the ramp and were loaded up and on the river by 11:15 am - about
an hour later that I had hoped for but I soon realized that it really didn't
matter how late we got on the river on this first day. I had it so firm in
my mind from the only other time we had traveled from US-27 to Ginnie that
the distance was 10 miles that I didn't bother to measure it. Within 30
minutes we were approaching Poe Springs and I realized my mistake. That trip
was 10 miles round trip and I had been concerned about the distance because
up until that time 10 miles was a long trip for me - especially since half
of it was going to be upstream. It really was just under six miles to the
main spring where we exited our boats after only three hours on the river.
We walked up to the office and checked in and then paddled downstream until
we reached Dogwood Spring and found an ideal campsite on a bend in the
river. We set up camp and then scouted out the area, picking up firewood as
we walked and once we had gathered enough, I was hot enough for a dip in Dogwood Spring and then another in the Santa Fe which felt like bath water
after the icy spring waters.
Our campsite at Ginnie Springs
We sat out under the trees on the bank watching one large group of tubers
float by while we drank wine and read. I started the charcoal fire and a
little while later we ate and drank as we watched the sliver of the new moon
set just after the sun to the west. It got dark rapidly as we sat by the
fire drinking the last of the wine while the Barred Owls began to serenade
us from the trees above. There was one Barred Owl who either had never quite
learned the song or else had a stutter as his song went "Who Cooks for Me?
Who Cooks For Err..Uh.. You?" We laughed each time he hooted and he was always
answered by several more owls - some of them breaking into a loud cackle at
the end of their hoot.
We retired to our tent and slept through the night but were often awaken by
the owls who seemed to have surrounded our campsite and were hooting loudly
from right above our tent.
See the pictures from this trip
10/21/09
Wild Turkey sipping water from the
Santa Fe
I was up at 6 the next morning and after stoking the fire and getting the
coffee going Hope joined me as the sky started getting light. We ate our
oatmeal and started thinking about packing up to try and get on the water by
8. A Barred Owl flew up to a tree directly above us and began hooting so I
grabbed my camera to try and capture a video so that I could record the
incredible sound. It sat there in silence as I shot and then flew over to a
nearby tree where it began nuzzling and grooming what looked to be a smaller
owl. As I videoed, I called Hope back over and we both watched what looked
to be a mother Owl grooming it's immature youngster. She sat there for a few
minutes before the youngster flew off to another tree. Barred Owls nuzzling each other
above our campsite
We packed up, got cleaned up and were on the river at 8:40 - not too bad in
my estimation and plenty of time to make it Ellie Ray's by early afternoon
if we kept the average rate we had the day before. The section of the river
from Ginnie to CR-47 has a few houses but a lot of the land is under Water
Management jurisdiction and we saw lot's of wildlife including Wood Ducks,
Deer and an Immature Bald Eagle who we chased for several miles until we
reached the bridge.
We took a quick break at the bridge and then pushed off toward the west. My
guide books had warned me of what we would find from this point on but we
were disappointed nonetheless by the nearly constant sight of homes on both
sides of the river. The scenery was still beautiful in spite of the
development and there was still plenty of wildlife to be seen including a
brief appearance of an Otter.
Bald Eagle near the CR-47 bridge
We passed two or three sets of large shoals along the way - much bigger than
anything we had experienced on the first day that gave us a fun ride. One of
the shoals was a short set of rapids stretching across a wide bend in the
river. I knew that I should choose one side or the other where the channel
was likely to be deeper but the middle section looked good as well so I
decided to try it. I realized my mistake when a large boulder loomed ahead
of me just under the water but it was too late to change directions so I
paddled hard and bumped over it and a second one in quick succession and
then turned to warn Hope. She passed without a hitch due in large part to
the shallower draft of her Poke Boat but we both agreed that it was a fun
ride.
A few miles down the river I thought I spotted some movement amongst the
cypress knees in an undeveloped part of the river. Finally, I spotted a
large deer starting at me as I floated by so I stopped and paddled back
until I could shoot him. As I did, I could see him peering out from behind a
tree to watch me and when Hope pulled up he turned tail and bounded off into
the woods. "Peek-a-boo"
I could see the Itchetuknee River coming up on my GPS so as we passed noon I
told Hope that we would probably find a pleasant place to eat our lunch at
the confluence. Soon, I saw the clear aquamarine water flowing into the dark
Santa Fe and we pulled over under an enormous oak tree to eat our lunch. We
had just passed a row of houses where some jet skies were tied up so we knew
that we were reaching a point in the river where the boat traffic coming off
the Suwannee would be more frequent and as we sat on the beach we saw a
couple of boats come from the west to take a look at the confluence.
After our break we set off and found the flow even greater now that the
Itchetuknee had added it's input and the banks of the Santa Fe now began to
resemble the limestone formations we were familiar with on the Suwannee. We
could see high water marks on the cypress trees that indicated that this
section of the Santa Fe was susceptible to the frequent floods that affect
the Suwannee but don't do much to the river upstream.
Red Shouldered Hawk
A Red Shouldered Hawk flew low over the river directly in front of me and
after some searching I found him perching in a tree not far from the water's
edge and paused to shoot him. I passed right by another who was standing on
the bank but only saw him fly off after Hope pointed him out. A few minutes
later she hollered at me and pointed at a Wild Turkey who was sauntering
down from the woods toward the water. I paddled over and sat a few yards
downstream shooting him while he sipped water from the river. He was soon
joined by six others who once they knew the riverbank was relatively safe
came out into the open and began dipping their beaks in the water, lifting
their heads up to let the water run down their long throats. Our destination - Ellie Ray's River
Camp
I pushed off and caught up with Hope telling her about the other Turkeys
that she had not seen. It was approaching 2:30 by now and although my GPS no
longer showed the Santa Fe, I could see CR-49 approaching and knew that we
were getting close to our take out point. We passed under the bridge where
there is a county boat ramp and a mile or so beyond that we reached another
river camp called Sandy Point. Around the next bend, less than a mile
downstream we could see the large sign announcing that we had arrived at
Ellie Ray's River Camp and Lounge where we loaded up and headed towards High
Springs - weary but satisfied after an 18.5 mile trip - 24.4 miles in two
days.
We transferred the boats to my truck and headed into Lake City where we
grabbed some food to take to Camp Weed and then once there we cleaned up and
ate and then watched the slightly larger new moon set over Lake White.
See the pictures from this trip
10/22/09
Smile for the camera big guy
When we planned this trip, I had debated what to do on the final day while Hope
would be busy with her conference at Camp Weed. After making a coffee and
biscuit run into Live Oak, I helped Hope set up her display, packed up and
then we sat out on the patio drinking some fresh brewed coffee while the
Episcopal Church Women started to shuffle in, cackling as they registered for
the conference. I knew I didn't want to be anywhere in the vicinity of Camp
Weed but I was tired and almost more inclined to head home and begin the task of
updating my journal and editing the hundreds of photos I had taken on the
trip. Another gorgeous fall day
When Hope suggested that IF I was heading in the direction of St.
George, Ga. that MAYBE I could pick up some BBQ from the "Shack By The
Tracks" - the deal was done and I was off for Billys Lake a few minutes
later. As I got of I-10 at US-41 in Lake City I realized my mistake - I
should have gone down to the next exit and taken US-441 directly up to Fargo but
since both roads parallel the river as it flows south, I knew that I could
take 41 until it dead-ended at CR-6 and then hook up with 441 - so no biggie -
RIGHT?! "Hi there!"
WRONG! About 10 miles out of White Springs - too far up to turn around -
there was an electronic sign saying that US-41 was closed from 7 am until 5
pm. I was sure that it was wrong, but a few feet beyond the sign was a
construction worker waving everyone down another road heading west. Some of
the locals were getting out of their vehicle to berate the construction
worker since there was no evidence of work going on within sight, but I
figured there had to be another road that would quickly take me to CR-6.
Well - that was not the case and I wound up going all of the way back to
CR-129 which is the road out of Live Oak and taking that up to Jasper where
I found CR-6. An hour after the detour, I finally pulled into the park north
of Fargo.
After signing in, I pulled up to the ramp and started to unload. There was an 8
foot Gator laying in the water with his nose resting on the end of the ramp
dead in the center - as if he were a boat waiting for someone to pull up a
trailer and crank him aboard. I carried my kayak down and gently laid it on
the concrete about three feet away as he quietly pulled away and swam over
to the nearest corner of the basin. Anhinga
I loaded up and set off down the canal toward the lake. I was surprised to
see a tour boat pull in off the lake and head in - in the three or so years
since I have been coming to Billy's Lake this is the first time I have seen the tour
boats running due to the low water. Once out on the lake, I headed
west for the first time since that first trip in
December of 2006. Hope and
I had paddled into the beautiful Suwannee Narrows on that day, but the low
water had kept us from going very far and I was curious about what it was
like now. Alligator welcoming party
I knew that with the recent cold front the Gators would all likely be
on the northern bank since the autumn sun would stay low in the southern sky
making that bank the ideal place to sun themselves. As soon as I crossed over, I could
see that that little tidbit of Alligator knowledge I had picked up was right on the money as I
spotted my first huge Gator sunning himself on a log. I was entering an area
of lily pads and I could see some movement amongst the vegetation. I wasn't
sure if it was the wind moving the leaves at first but suddenly, next to my
boat, a leaf flipped over revealing a small Gator staring at me. Tall cypress on Billys Lake
I thought about counting the Gators that I saw but it soon became clear
that I was going to run out of fingers and toes long before I saw the last
Gator, so I stopped. As I paddled, I could look ahead of me, out in the
middle of the lake
and see the distinct profiles of several Gators criss-crossing the
glassy waters. As I paddled, I stayed at least 15 yards off the shore so as
not to surprise any sleeping Gators and get an unwelcome surprise myself. I
could look ahead and see that word of my arrival was being passed down the
shoreline as, at times, five or six Gators would come swimming out from the
shoreline about 20 yards ahead of me - all of them pausing to look me over
before either disappearing beneath the surface of the dark waters, or else heading out to the middle of the lake for
a swim.
I could look up on the shore and see several huge Gators who were giving me
only a passing glance while they enjoyed the sun, but once in a while, one of
them would either come running on extended legs into the water or else crash
with a swirl off of the log where they had been dozing. I easily saw a
hundred Gators on the day and it rivaled the day Hope and I refer to as
"Gator Pile Day" here two years ago.
I reached the end of the lake where a sign pointed toward the Narrows so I
took that path. There is a boardwalk with a bathroom and a sign pointing
into the woods to a campsite at Mixons Hammock. I got out and walked the
trail for several yards but evidently the campsite is a long hike so I
returned to the boardwalk and ate lunch. Through the dark Suwannee Narrows
I continued down the narrows as it entered a dark area where the water
swiftly flows between the cypress and titi and it reminded me a lot of the
Minnies Lake run we took in February. On our trip
in the Narrows three years ago, we had to
fight the current as it passed over fallen trees but with the water level up,
the current was strong, but the few tangles I encountered were easily
navigated. My GPS, as usual, showed no detail so I had no idea where I was in
relation to the Sill and decided to set a time limit on my journey. I had
just about reached it when the stream suddenly came to an open area and
straightened out considerably. I heard the sound of enormous wings flapping
from somewhere close by but saw only a Black Crowned Night Heron fly up.
After shooting him, I decided that I would turn back, but as I sat behind a
log out of the current I heard a loud series of splashes coming from
downstream that I could not readily identify. At first I thought it might be
another paddler but as I waited no one appeared. It didn't quite sound like
a Gator and was too loud for a deer so I figured it was probably a Hog.
Since it was so close I decided I had to check it out and turned into the
current to float downstream in the direction of the sound. Emerging from the darkness near
where I spotted the Bear
Just a few yards downstream I looked to my left toward a marshy area
and saw an enormous black shape less than 10 feet away. It's huge black back
rose above my head and I followed it down to a black head with small ears
and a grayish muzzle. It stopped in its track as my mouth dropped to my
knees and after a quick glance, it turned and with a loud crash disappeared
into the cypress trees. "It's a Bear!" I exclaimed to no one but myself and
then turned around to see if I could spot it in the woods. Amazingly, the
bear had either disappeared after only making that initial sound or else was
staring at me from the impenetrable darkness of the cypress dome where it's
jet back fur blended in perfectly with the shadows that never see the
sunlight. Of course, I was unable to get any shots but I was thrilled
nonetheless to see one of these creatures that roam the swamp with no
enemies other than man. I felt sorry for the poor bear since the Narrows is
a place that people rarely travel and he was probably thinking that he was
out for a nice romp in the swamp when he was so rudely disturbed. "Today, little buddy, you're my
pillow - when I get bigger - you're breakfast."
I paddled back against the current with little difficulty and was soon back
out on the lake where I stayed to the southern bank on my trip back. The sun
was now past it's zenith and was shining at least a little bit on that side
of the river and a few Gators were there as well. The majority were still on
the north side of the lake and since I was not disturbing them they
stayed in their place. I spotted one who was on a log with a turtle and was
actually resting his nose on the turtle's shell as he slept. The turtle was
looking a little annoyed, however at this violation of his personal space.
I returned to the basin and after loading up I signed out at the office and
told the lady there about the bear. She smiled, and said that there was a
mother and it's cub inside the park area that morning eating acorns, so I
guess my Bear sighting was not a big deal.
I headed east once I got back to Fargo and after a long drive pulled into
St. George where I found that the Shack was indeed open. After placing my
order for a rack of ribs the lady inside opened the screen a few minutes
later and told me that I was in luck. Since things were so slow that day I
was getting a 2 for 1 and handed me two rack of ribs.
It was a long drive home and since Hope had no idea about the second rack, it
was all I could do to avoid pulling off the road, heading down to the banks
of the St. Marys River, drinking that last Smithwick's Ale that had been
chilling in melted ice all day and making that second rack disappear. I
endured the incredible smell of smoked ribs for the next hour as I headed up
to Kingsland and got cheap gas before heading home.
See the pictures from this trip
10/27/09
Summer is officially over - the
White Pelicans are back in town!
After our trip down the Santa Fe River, it was my weekend to work day shift
and Monday was the first FMNP Uplands class for Hope and I. Today, I woke up
to cloudy skies and the 80% threat of thunderstorms all day long but I had
been itching to get back to Pumpkin Hill since my last trip two weeks
earlier when I had found a new way to shrimp. I decided to head that way but
with the threat of rain and the prospect of shrimping I brought a different
camera dry bag and left my deck bag and binoculars at home.
Since that day two weeks earlier, a cold front had blown through dropping
the water temperature in the area dramatically. I've never been quite sure
what causes the shrimp to come and go but I felt sure that temperature at
least played a part so as I unloaded by boat on this gray blustery day I
wasn't sure if I would have much success. There were no shrimp flipping from
the water near the put-in but around the first bend I pulled over and
decided to try my luck. I got nothing but mud as I pulled the net in
so I continued on around the bend near the trails.
As soon as I rounded the bend, I saw a large dark bird perching near the
trails in a dead tree that is often occupied by Ospreys. At first, I
dismissed it as a vulture but something in the way that it was perching told
me that it might be the very young Bald Eagle that I have been seeing here
this summer and fall. Since I didn't have my binoculars I took a leap of
faith and began shooting as I floated toward him. Soon, I was sure of his
identity but about that time he was also sure of mine and flew off as I
floated downstream toward my shrimping spot. I watched as he flew over the
tree line at the little point and then suddenly dove for the deck. Not
surprisingly, what had grabbed his attention was an Osprey - probably with a
fish - and I watched as he briefly chased it and then flew back towards the
trails.
He continued on upstream past the put-in and I made my way downstream
passing a feeder stream where I saw some shrimp jumping and tossed my net a
couple of times, netting a few large shrimp. I made my way to my shrimping
spot where I tossed the net at the junction with the feeder stream but came
up empty. I paddled all of the way up the stream until I was sitting in
soupy mud and the water came alive with shrimp that were bouncing off the
side of my kayak. I broke my paddle down and stowed half of it behind me and
put my cooler on the bow deck in front of me. I set the dish pan on my lap
and made a half hearted toss to my right as the water exploded in a fury of
gray. The net was heavy and noisy as I pulled it toward me and as I dumped
it in my lap the angry shrimp were at least two deep.
I could see that there were several large ones and I saw none that stood out
as being obviously too small so I opened the lid of my cooler and dumped the
entire contents on top of the ice. I had at least 50 on that throw and maybe
as many as 75 - enough for a meal. I spent the next hour moving my boat back
and forth with my half paddle and the results were the same - more shrimp
than I could handle. Finally, I moved down the creek toward the main channel
tossing as I did until the level of the shrimp were just inches from the top
of my cooler - a fact that cause many of the last couple of tosses to stay
in only briefly before making their way quickly either to freedom or the
bottom of my boat.
I nearly capsized my boat as I tried to move the heavy cooler to the back
deck but I managed to get it strapped in and got my paddle back together and
began heading back. As I paddled toward the trails, I saw a column of large
white birds rising on the thermals upstream and realized that they were
White Pelicans who were being pushed by the strong southerly breeze toward
the Nassau River. This is one of the many signs that I look for to signal,
if not the beginning of winter, surely the end of summer and it goes hand in
hand with the disappearance of the Roseate Spoonbills who were no where to
be found.
I paddled up toward the put-in, ignoring several photo opportunities, but
when I rounded the last bend I saw a mass of white sitting on the sandbar
directly in front of the put-in. There were at least 50 Pelicans standing
there and about half of them took off not long after I poked my head around
the corner. I shot as I floated toward them and finally, the last group took
off and began rising into the air as they circled and let the breeze carry
them north.
I loaded up and headed toward home. I began the long task of pinching shrimp
heads while sipping a beer in the front yard - an activity that it seems I
have been doing a lot of this summer. I've gotten pretty adept at it - pinch
a head, toss it in a garbage bag to my right while the tail goes to the
colander on the left, sip a beer - repeat. I repeated this 631 times on this
afternoon (well, not beer sipping - I did that every 50 or so) in a little
over an hour. More shrimp went in the freezer to make the long, cold First
Coast winter go a little easier. 2528 shrimp is my total for the year and
still more opportunities to make the waters safe for kayakers.
See the pictures from this trip
10/29/09
Yummy Pumpkin Hill Shrimp -
everybody loves 'em!
After my record success shrimping on Tuesday, I was anxious to get back to
Pumpkin Hill to kill more shrimp but I had to wait a day due to our FMNP
class. That put low tide well past noon but since I was now coming to the
shrimp rather than waiting for them to come to me I wanted to see if I would
have the same kind of success at the "wrong" tide.
I set out from the put-in and headed across to the little island near Black
Hammock directly in front of the put-in. I wanted to see if the shrimp were
there but I could only see a few jumping and didn't bother to toss. As I
came around the far side of the island, however, a large dark bird flew out
from the pine trees on Black Hammock and as he flew away I could see that
his tail was streaked with white. I'm not sure if it was the same young
Eagle I saw on Tuesday or possibly one of his older siblings.
I had seen a lone White Pelican floating toward the trails and I caught up
with him after I re-entered the main channel. He was floating into an inlet
and looked back at me calmly as he swam further into the grass. I headed
around the bend and explored one of the feeder stream on the way down to my
spot. I could see shrimp popping occasionally but not in numbers that made
me reach for my net so I continued on.
Once in the feeder stream where I nailed over 600 shrimp two days ago I
paddled up until I was sitting in the soupy mud and tossed my first net. I
hauled in nothing but mud which I splattered all over my boat. My next toss
netted a couple of small ones and over the next 30 minutes I was only
getting one or two keepers per throw. I let the current carry me out toward
the main channel occasionally getting some catches of more than a couple and
I was approaching my goal of 100 by the time I reached the end of the creek.
As I got close to the main channel I suddenly began hauling in nets full of
large shrimp - sometimes well over 50 per toss. I knew that I had over 200
shrimp and since I had already stayed later than I had planned and was worn
out I headed back. I didn't see much to shoot on the way back until I was
close to the final bend. Now that it was close to low tide I could see more
shrimp jumping and the Herons and Egrets were gobbling them up. I watched as
a Tern flew overhead with a shrimp that he kept dropping and then catching
in midair. He flew down to the sandbar where he continued to drop the
lifeless shrimp in the water and then pick it back up. He continued to do
this until one of his buddies flew up and tried to snatch it.
I was surprised when I got back to the house and counted up my catch as I
put them away. 315 shrimp which brings my total for the year to 2843 -
nearly 1000 in the last two trips and no sign of the shrimp going away.
See the pictures from this trip
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